


If at first you don't succeed, try try again

by nighttime_stars



Series: Writers month aug 2019 [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff and Humor, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-09 23:09:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19895902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nighttime_stars/pseuds/nighttime_stars
Summary: Heaven, not having learnt from their first attempt, try to execute Aziraphale again via assassination. This does not go down well with Crowley.





	If at first you don't succeed, try try again

**Author's Note:**

> This is for writersmonth2019 and based on the prompt annoyance. The angels are annoying because they never know when to give up (its a bit of a reach, I know)

“They live together in a cottage not far from Tadfield.”

“ _Live together,”_ Michael replies, her lip curls as she takes in the new information.

Gabriel understood her disgust as he had nearly gagged when he first found out. Preventing Armageddon and being immune to hellfire was, while not forgivable, not as outright blasphemous as co-habiting with a _demon_. Aziraphale had really gone too far now.

Michael collected herself, “Well, do you have a plan to deal with this?”

“Of course,” Gabriel said, puffing out his chest, “Scouts are already at the cottage as we speak. We’ll be able to act by tonight.”

“It better work. I want Aziraphale wiped out of existence.”

She turned on her heel and went to leave, and Gabriel really didn’t want to ask (fearful that he would be given more work by the archangel) but it had to be addressed. At the clearing of his throat, Michael looked at him sharply and he asked, “What about the demon?”

Her eyes narrowed, “Let Hell deal with that abomination. I’m tired of helping those useless fiends.”

**

Down on earth, Crowley was having a hell of a time tormenting his plants (though tormenting in Hell had never been this fun). Since moving out of London, his collection of plants had expanded to include species like the rose bushes that grew outside his and Aziraphale’s new cottage. At that moment, he paced the length of the house, inspecting and intimidating his plants into growing larger and brighter flowers. Aziraphale was in London acquiring new books so Crowley didn’t have to ease off in the _vividness_ of his threats like he would when the angel was home.

He held the water squirt bottle loosely in his hand as he surveyed the plants that were just as pristine as the houseplants. Bugs were easy to ward away with a small miracle and the mice went scurrying for the hills as soon as they saw a snake hanging around the roses one day. Reluctantly, Crowley had allowed the bees and butterflies to stay, if only to make his job easier.

A snap of a twig made Crowley tense and he accidentally hit a rose directly with a stream of water when he tightened his grip on the bottle. Growling, he swung round and tried to spot who made the noise. _If the petals are damaged,_ he thought, planning the revenge in the back of his mind. He would be more lenient if it was a child…maybe.

However, there was no further noise except the usual accompanying sounds of the forest. It may have been a bird but Crowley was more paranoid after Heaven and Hell attempted to execute the pair a few years ago. A worrying thought crossed his mind: _they did promise to try again one day._

Trying to appear normal, Crowley quickly finished terrorising his plants (though his threats were more lacklustre than before) and rushed inside. Once he was upstairs, he watched the front of the house from the bedroom window.

He hissed when he saw angels appear from the forest. _Those bastards._

Using his powers, he opened the window so it wouldn’t creak and give him away. The three angels were either dumb or arrogant (or most likely both) to come into the open mere seconds after Crowley went into the cottage.

Crowley could only hear half of their conversation but it was nearly enough to send him into a blinding rage:

“Is this it?” Angel one said, his careless attitude was prominent and clear to see as his voice was loud and carried well.

One of the others murmured something in reply and the response seemed to annoy the first angel as the volume of his speech was higher when he spoke next.

“That demon has become nothing more than a domesticated housekeeper. He was gardening for Heaven’s sake, no way is he a threat.”

At that point, Crowley was tempted to make the rose bushes grow into terrifying plant monsters just to see what the angels would do but then the obnoxious one kept speaking and dread washed over him.

“Anyway, we can report back and say that the cottage will burn easily. The traitor will go up in flames tonight.”

Crowley remained frozen long after the angels left. Despite the stillness of his body, his mind was racing as he plotted their destruction.

**

First things first, he had to keep Aziraphale in London and away from the cottage. A few phone calls later and he had a reservation at a high-end restaurant in London for midnight that required minimal demonic intervention to get.

He dialled Aziraphale and, as he waited for the call to connect, he planned the ideal conversation in his head which went something along the lines of:

“Hey Aziraphale, just calling to tell you that I got a table for a restaurant near the bookshop for midnight, so you shouldn’t bother coming home.”

To which Aziraphale would ideally respond with: “Okay dear, that is very thoughtful.”

Unfortunately, things would rarely turn out the way Crowley wanted them to.

The call connected and his greeting was interrupted by Aziraphale saying, “Oh good, I was just about to call you to say that I would be back soon.”

“No!” Crowley said, his heart speeding up at the prospect that his plan would fall through, “Stay in London.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said, sounding worried, “What’s wrong?”

Biting back a curse, Crowley tried again, “Nothing, angel. I’ve just booked a table for midnight in a restaurant near the shop, so you don’t need to come back.” That was pretty much what he planned to say the first time.

“Midnight?” Aziraphale replied, “I can still come back and we can drive there later.”

“Nope. No, you cannot do that because…uh…” Crowley racked his brain for an excuse. His eyes brightened when an idea struck him, “I’ve got a gift and you cannot see it until tonight.”

Aziraphale sounded much more relaxed when he replied, “Well alright then. I’ll see you later dear.”

“Yeah yeah. I’ll message you the address.”

When Crowley hung up the phone, he took a few seconds to feel proud of himself until he realised the consequences of his excuse. “Fuck,” he said, running his hands through his hair, “now I have to get a present as well.”

**

Crowley had a plan; it was not a very good, intricate or well-thought-out plan but it would hopefully succeed in scaring off the annoying angels for a millennium instead of a few years.

Hidden in the bedroom, Crowley had a perfect view of the front of the house where the angels had appeared earlier. He was growing impatient as the clock crept past eleven…and then eleven fifteen. _Damnit,_ he thought, _why couldn’t they work to his schedule?_

At eleven twenty, they showed up. No longer bothering to conceal their approach, they appeared directly in the front garden and Crowley was pleased to spot Gabriel with them. He wasn’t happy because he liked the angel obviously; Crowley was just excited to hear him scream.

His lip curled as he spotted the torches the angels carried; the fire illuminated their twisted faces and Crowley fantasied about making the fire become uncontrollable and watching the angels burn. Aziraphale wouldn’t completely disapprove and it would be _oh so easy._ On the other hand, if Crowley actually killed them permanently, the attacks would be never-ending and it would become harder to protect his angel.

So, instead of torching all the angels like he wanted to, he turned his rose bushes into terrifying, flame-resistant plant monsters.

Gabriel’s scream brought Crowley so much joy.

Panicking, the angels quickly fled back to Heaven with the sound of demonic laughter behind them.

Continuing to giggle, Crowley restored his garden and checked the time: eleven twenty-six, plenty of time to drive into London. He grabbed the pre-prepared bouquet of roses, planning to tell Aziraphale everything now that the danger was over.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what this ending is but, hopefully, it works
> 
> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated. 
> 
> (My tumblr is randomwriter2002)


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